The Very Stupid Fanfic
by Alexei Noire
Summary: One day a Fanfiction.net author realised how stupid some stories about HP turn out,so he went and made his very own stoopid story which is so out-of-character, so out-of-touch that I'm lucky I don't live anywhere near JK lest she hunt me down.
1. Default Chapter

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own _Harry Potter_ or any of the characters within the _Harry Potter_ series – they are the sole property and creation of Joanne Kathleen Rowling of Number 6 Privet Drive and _Bloomsbury books_.. or so I'm told.

**A/N:** This is a fanfiction, intended to be **stupid **to the extreme so do not go writing to JK and complaining because I don't deserve it – there's much worse fics out there which I will take the mickey out of obviously.

_Alexei Noire xXx_

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**Chapter 1: ..Yeah**

Harry James 'Da Man' Potter sat underneath the shade of a rather unsightly willow tree in a park near his Aunt Petty, Uncle Vernie and Cousin Dude-Lee's house in Little Whingeing. Harry sat wistfully whilst plucking great tufts of dry, yellowing grass from the ground around him, thinking of his life as a wizard and of what this story will end up as... which ultimately means he's hoping JK doesn't read it should she have heart failure of the very notion of 

Well anyway, out of nowhere an owl zoomed towards our lovely blond hero, Harry James 'Da Man' Potter.

"Hoot!" it said, smiling at him (can owls smile?) and pecking at his hair which it mistook for golden worms.

"OUCHIE OUCH OUCH!" Harry screamed, "Get thee away thou spawn of Hades!"

With that the owl zoomed off into the air to You-Know-Who-knows-where.

Blond Harry opened up the post-it note which the owl had dropped and read it slowly, again and again.

_Dear Harry 'Da Man' Potter,_

_This is the Prince of Wales' son, Prince Harry. You know me, the ginger haired stoner with the posh accent and dreams of joining the Royal Navy._

_Well I thought, can I come to Gogorts or whatever your school is called for a year to see what it's like? Yeah? Great! Thanks Haz._

_You have to let me, I have the same name as you! And plus I'm loaded so I could probably buy you some copies of 'The Half Blood Prince' for when you want to read about your own sordid life. You prick._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Prince Harry the red-headed Prince._

_p.s. Do you think I was the Half Blood Prince? No...? Oh well._

He turned the post it note over and over several times to see whether this was some sort of joke or trick from his friend, Ronny 'Da Weasel' Weasley or Hermione 'Brains' Granger.

However, before he could ponder this any further, a loud booming voice called from the other end of the park.

"OI BLONDIE!"

It was Bellatrix Lestrange! Eeeek! Let's run and hide.

"What?" he replied in a bored voice.

"Fancy a game of rugby?" she asked, walking slowly toward him dressed in a bright orange rugby shirt, with Blur songs blaring loudly on her iPod.

"No, my girlfriend won't let me get hurt" he said looking rather dismal.

Bellatrix stopped in her tracks, dropping the rugby ball.

"G-Girlfriend!?" she spluttered, "B-But I thought I was your one and only!"

Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at Bellatrix's head.

"Crucio!" he yelled.

The pain Bellatrix felt was intense and blinding, she writhed on the ground with her lurid rugby shirt getting covered in dry mud. The screams echoed into the night and ... I mean day, whatever, and roused the attention of old Arabella Figg, who ate a lot of figs so that she could get fig-breath and live up to her name.

"'Ere 'Arry!" she screeeeeeeeeeched, "What you doing to that poor old ex-Death Eater?"

She came near enough for Harry James 'Da Man' Potter to smell her fig-breath. He lifted up his wand and pocketed it.

"YOU BASTARD!" Bellatrix screamed, recovering ridiculously quickly from the most extreme form of magical torture.

"Oh quit your whining bitch," Harry said, "and make me some dinner."

**STOP!**

The author would like to pause to wonder what the hell's going on here. I mean.... WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU ON YOU RETARDED BOY!?

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Alexei Noire xXx


	2. Yankie Doodle Harry

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own _Harry Potter_ or any of the characters within the _Harry Potter_ series – they are the sole property and creation of Joanne Kathleen Rowling of Number 6 Privet Drive and _Bloomsbury books_.. or so I'm told. Other names dropped are also not my property!

**A/N:** So I decided to update seeing as I got some rather nice reviews. Thank you to EDS, redragon6662 and King Kazul for thine reviews.

**A/N2:** APOLOGIES TO ALL AMERICAN READERS! All the Anti-American abuse in this chapter is for comedy value.

_Alexei Noire xXx_

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**Chapter 2: Yankee Doodle Harry**

"Since when have you had blond hair, Harry?" asked Harry 'Da Man' Potter's friend, Hermione 'Brains' Granger in a tone of mock concern.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, handing the corned beef sandwiches that Bellatrix had made him to Ron who was eyeing them hungrily – a look of longing on his face.

"Well you see JK made me a brunette," he murmured, teasing Hermione 'Brains' Granger's bushy brown hair, "but I realised that I never have much fun and on Grease that pink-haired bitch.. . Frenchy or something said that 'Blondes have more fun'. So I decided to go out to Superdrug and buy some Schwarzkopf hair dye. Took me all of half an hour to do."

He grabbed Ron's face and drew a fake moustache on with a permanent marker from Hermione 'Brains' Granger's pencil case.

"OI!" he shouted with a mouth full of Bellatrix's sandwiches.

Harry 'Da Man' Potter laughed wickedly and sat back appreciatively in his seat just as a tall, skinny girl dressed entirely in emo attire with long sleek black hair and a fringe walked in.

"Hey!" she said in an American accent to Harry 'Da Man' Potter, "You're Haaaarry Podder arrren't yoo?"

Hermione looked at the American bitch warily with utmost hate in her face.

"And who the bleedin' hell do you think you are?" she said, looking the newcomer angrily who had just seated herself next to Ron.

The girl grinned a toothy, dazzling smile which was obviously the product of great American toothpastes and dentists and well....braces. Hermione choked on her own saliva and stared down at her feet, apparently jealous.

"I," she said in that annoying American accent which made you think of really shit shows like 'The O.C.' or 'Beverly Hills 90210', "am Cassie Halliday. I am a transfer student from Schenectady back in Noo Yawk!"

"Bleedin' Yank!" Ron said in a muffled voice, "Go back to where you came from!"

"Now, now," said Ginevra Weasley walking into the carriage with Crookshanks in her arms, "don't be racist to the bitch. Just because she's a real fucker who's been overcome by the multinational companies of their cursed land!"

"Hey!!!" Cassie, the American bitch screamed, "Stop it! All I did was transfer here from some crap American school and I wanted a nice, new life in England!!"

"Well," said Hermione, with her mouth slightly pursed to perhaps hide her large front teeth, "you won't be very popular at Hogwarts being an emo girl – most of the students are into Wizard Metal and New Wave of Witchblaze Heavy Metal as well as some Magick Punk."

"God," Cassie said, which was immediately followed by everyone in the carriage except Hermione 'Brains' Granger covering their ears.

"DO NOT SAY THE NAME!!" yelled Ron.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" screamed Ginevra.

"VOLDEMOOOOOOOOOOOOOORT!" Harry bellowed.

**PAUSE**

_Readers:_ Alexei 'Da Freak' Noire, why are you suddenly adding an American exchange student who is an emo kid to Hogwarts?

_Alexei:_ Well you see, you can tell when an American writes a fanfic because they always add an American Exchange Student. Either that or use American grammar and spelling which just will not do!

**PLAY**

"Firs' Years!" Hagrid yelled, "This way!"

Harry 'Da Man' Potter hurried over to Hagrid, wringing his hand enthusiastically with a broad grin across his James and Lily Potter face.

"Heya Harry!" he roared, "Seen that American bitch?"

"Yeah!" Harry shouted over the din of the students running hither and thither, "She's well fit!"

Hagrid's smile vanished and, grumbling, stormed off toward the lake.

"Neeeeeeeeeeeeighhhhhh!" the nearest Thestral neighed at Harry 'Da Man' Potter.

Harry wheeled round and faced, not a Thestral but Loopy, Loony, Luna Lovegood.

"Hello Harry 'Da Man' Potter," she sang dreamily, not looking at Harry but over his shoulder, "I hope you are well!"

With that she stalked off, a skip with every alternate step.

"Come on Harry!" Ron 'Da Weasel' Weasley called from a knot of Seventh Years to Harry's right.

In the Entrance Hall, there was a boom of hundreds of mingled voices all talking excitedly at once. As Harry clambered his way through toward the Marble Staircase, teeny weeny tiny Professor Flitwick bumbled toward Harry.

"Come with me Potter!" he squeaked, "I need to talk you, not in my office – we'll go to Snape's, it'll be closer!"

Wondering what on earth the Charms teacher, Professor Flitwick would want to talk to Harry about, minutes before the Welcoming Feast. With a questioning look back at Hermione, he followed the tiny professor away from the gabble of voices and down to the dungeons and through to Snape's dank office with its many jars full of formidable suspensions.

"Sit down Potter!" Professor Flitwick said, while sitting himself down on a large pile of books he made with a flick of his wand.

Harry seated himself in a rather uncomfortable leathery seat which he was sure had never been in here before. Staring intently at Professor Flitwick, he waited.

"I don't suppose you know why I called you in here today!" he squeaked.

Da Man shook his head and leaned back on his seat, somewhat annoyed at the prospect of missing the feast .... And the pretty American girl.

"I won't keep you for long, don't worry!" he said, and he immediately opened the door behind Harry 'Da Man' Weasley.

Harry's jaw dropped.

It was Prince Henry Charles Albert David Mountbatten-Windsor of Wales, better known as red-haired pot-smoking Prince Harry.

"Y-You're here!" Harry 'Da Man' Potter gasped, running up to bow low in front of the Prince.

"No need to do that, Potter!" he said, laughing and urging Da Man to get up, "It's not the middle-ages anymore in which you bow to princes."

"So good to meet you, Your Highness!" Harry whispered, almost stumbling to the ground in admiration.

Prince Harry smirked with the same smirk as Draco 'Da Snake' Malfoy.

Harry 'Da Man' Potter turned round to face Professor Flitwick.

"What is the Prince of Wales doing here?" he asked, apparently now unconcerned about the Sorting Ceremony going on upstairs.

"Well," squeaked Prof Flitty-wick, "the Prince obviously couldn't be sorted with all the First Years – now that'd just be damn embarrassing. So what we did was, we sorted him beforehand and he ended up in Ravenclaw."

"Surely you got my Post-It Note during the summer?" the Prince asked Harry.

Harry nodded sheepishly, unaware of how much he was beginning to drool.

"Right-o!" Professor Flitwick said, coming up to the two Harrys, "According to Headmistress Sidebottom's orders we need to come through the back room to introduce the Prince."

At that moment, Professor Severus 'Crusher' Snape strode into the office and his eyes widened at the sight that met him.

"What," he breathed, "in the unholy name of the Dark Lord are you three doing in my office. Explain yourselves please!"

Professor Flitwick giggled and ran out of the room, yelling "So long suckers!" after them.

"Uhh" Harry began, but the Prince interrupted him.

"Why Potter here was just introducing me to Hogwarts," he said in a calm, strangely common Southern England accent, "He will be my guide and colleague you see. For I am," he coughed slightly to affirm an ellipsis, "the Prince of Wales."

Snape evidently neither knew nor cared about the Prince of Wales and a wry smirk appeared on his pallid face.

"Twenty points from Ravenclaw, Windsor," he breathed, "No go to the Great Hall immediately."

**STOP**

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Stupid? Yes I know. Carry on.

_Alexei Noire xXx_


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